


A Storm Without The Rain

by creeper_gavin



Series: I'm Only Human [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Angst, Comforting Michael, Dehydration, Fake AH Crew, Fluff, Gavin Free-centric, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Self-Destructive Gavin, Stressed Gavin, Workaholic Gavin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 07:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13383135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creeper_gavin/pseuds/creeper_gavin
Summary: " No one arrives and Gavin yells out again.“Guys?” He realises why no one is coming. No one can hear him. His voice is quieter than he intends, too weak to be heard and his throat so dry he needs to cough.People die from dehydration. Gavin’s all too aware that out of all the things he could have deprived himself from, liquid is surely the quickest killer. He doesn’t want to die. Not like this. If Gavin has to die he wanted it to be in a fire of glory or jumping daringly from the top floor of a skyscraper. Not from forgetting to re-fill a water bottle. "When Gavin gets so into his work he ignores the fact that human's need water to survive he best hope someone finds him before it's too late. Isn't lucky that Michael happens to be passing by in the moment that Gavin needs him the most?





	A Storm Without The Rain

**Author's Note:**

> So... hi? It's been like a year and a half since I uploaded a fic. That's crazy. Ha. Hope some of you out there still like reading my stuff? I wanted to start writing again, it was so good for my creative process, honestly!
> 
> So I have the next instalment of the I'm Only Human series which luckily I still possessed all my notes and planning for.
> 
> I hope you like this!

Los Santos is hot. Why is it so fucking hot?

Gavin groans, sweating forehead sinking into his equally sweaty palms as he rubs tired eyes to no avail. The words on the computer screen are still blurring into one thick black blob and his head still pounds distantly as if some creature were dancing on his brain. 

He heaves out a breath and reaches forward for a water bottle on his desk. Fingers clumsily grasp the plastic as though Gavin has no control over his limbs anymore but as he lifts up the bottle he finds it empty. He groans, chucking it a small distance across the room. It bounces off the skirting board with a hollow thud and comes to rest beside the large windows of his office that look over the city of Los Santos. 

It’s the height of summer. Thunder clapping overhead all day for the entire ordeal there’s not even been a hint of rain.

As he stares out across the view, lightning cracking across the sky, his vision still blurs. Gavin wants to stand up but his legs won’t obey and he’s almost trapped. He’s so concerned with his sudden inability to move he doesn’t notice the blur fading to black. It starts at the edge of his vision, creeping further in until there’s nothing less than a small pin prick of light filtering through. 

“Fuck…” Gavin mumbles as if it will help anything. Suddenly his legs are freed up and he pushes himself to a stand but he’s still blind. Then as quickly as his movement came his head spins, his strength is gone and he crumples onto the ground; the last thing he takes in is the world turning sideways as his vision flashes impulsively and his head hits the ground.

Gavin wakes ten minutes later alone on his office floor. He’s folded oddly with one leg twisted uncomfortably under him and he groans as he tries to shift it back.

“Bloody hell.” He declares to no one in particular.

He gives a lengthy sigh before pushing himself into a sitting position. Gavin’s head spins again but not to the velocity of before.

“Clearly I need a nap.” Gavin decides with a chuckle but he has no plans to take a break.

The programme the hacker is currently working requires his full attention. He needs to sit there for as long as it takes and simply stare at the screen. Gavin’s watching for anomalies in the system, waiting for a way in so he can fast-track a hack into the LSPD’s files. If he can find a way it’ll make everyone jobs a lot easier for the foreseeable future.

From his episode before he now has to re-start the programme.  Who knows what could have come up in the ten minutes he was out?

Gavin heaves himself to his feet, leaning on his desk for support. He actually feels sick to his stomach and there’s a burning sensation in his throat. He leans for the water bottle again, forgetting he’d thrown it across the room not fifteen minutes earlier. 

“What the hell is it doing all the way over there?” He grumbles, stumbling across the window. Gavin’s having to lean on anything that will support him to get there; the wall, the desk, his computer monitor; and, eventually, the glass window pane.

Picking it up Gavin’s confused to find it empty. He only filled it up an hour ago. He’s sure about that.

Never mind. He decides to grab some water after the programme finishes. He’ll survive till then. A cool drink of water and then a nap to get rid of the unexplained drowsiness that’s washing over him.

Gavin’s breathing heavily by the time he crosses back to his desk but the room isn’t that long. His chest heaves as he sinks back down into his chair and his heart beats quicker than normal. He waves it off, restarts the programme and sits back down for the long haul.

 

* * *

 

Nine hours later Gavin’s still in his seat. The bad feelings from before faded away some time ago and now Gavin’s just left with a dry mouth. The others have entered the room baring food and water but Gavin wouldn’t even let them put it down on his desk. He waved them away without even looking from his screen. Promising them he’d venture into the kitchen in the next hour or so. 

But even Gavin’s had to stop now he’s noticed how unbelievably warm it still is in his office. Even the dark night sky didn’t offer up much of a temperature change. The glass wall – which happens to be Gavin’s favourite feature of this place – is acting like a greenhouse for the room. He tries to breathe in and out calmly but the air is muggy and it gets caught into his dry throat. Rasping painfully, he reaches for the water bottle again.

Obviously, it’s still empty.

Gavin thinks back to the last time he had a drink.

Today? No... he missed some valuable hours the night before and bypassed breakfast to get to his office.

Last night before bed? No, he passed out at his desk and Ryan carried him to bed.

Yesterday morning? 

Yes, that was it. He definitely drank a glass of water at breakfast. So, if that was eight in the morning on Tuesday and today was – Gavin glances at the calendar on his computer screen – quarter past one in the morning on Thursday. So it wasn’t today anymore…

Bloody hell.

That’s forty-one hours ago.

Now Gavin’s aware he can feel his body isn’t right. He can feel his heart racing in his chest with every slight move he wakes, his feel his neck struggling to hold the weight of his own head and he’s sure he can see the earth rotating on its axis.

He wants to move but the bad feelings are back and he’s sure if he stands he’ll fall.

“Guys?” Gavin shouts weakly. Perhaps someone’s still in their office. Ryan is most likely to be up out of all his boys but he honestly couldn’t care less who came to him now.

No one arrives and Gavin yells out again.

“Guys?” He realises why no one is coming. No one can hear him. His voice is quieter than he intends, too weak to be heard and his throat so dry he needs to cough.

People die from dehydration. Gavin’s all too aware that out of all the things he could have deprived himself from, liquid is surely the quickest killer. He doesn’t want to die. Not like this. If Gavin has to die he wanted it to be in a fire of glory or jumping daringly from the top floor of a skyscraper. Not from forgetting to re-fill a water bottle.

He decides if no one is coming for him he has to get himself to the kitchen. He’s already dreaming about dunking his head under the kitchen tap, drinking in the cold water and relishing the refreshing feeling. His head spins as he pushes himself up out of his seat and he has to grab hold of the back of his chair to steady himself. It doesn’t work since Gavin’s chair spins.

Stumbling out to the middle of the room where there’s nothing to hold onto he breathes in sharply and finds his footing. Every step is wobbly, every stride a blind step in the dark because once again his vision starts closing in.

Gavin falls into his office door, pushes down the handle with all of his wait and crashes through it into the corridor. That corridor seems to go on forever, the door stretching further and further away with every step he takes.

He does reach the end eventually… inevitably. But it feels like an eternity. 

The end brings him into the living room, the open plan kitchen on the other side. If Gavin wasn’t half blind it would have been there clear as day.

The heart beat which once raced in his chest, beating so forcefully Gavin thought it might burst through his ribcage has weakened. It’s still quick, quicker than what’s healthy but the feelings fading fast.

Suddenly the door to the weaponry opens and Gavin realises he looks even worse than he feels.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” A Jersey accents shrieks, sparking pain through Gavin’s temples. Bu at least Gavin can place the voice immediately even through the haze of his mind and the black that encases his sight.

“Michael…” He whispers hoarsely, leaning heavily on the wall. “Help… please…” He whispers.

Gavin squeezes his eyes tight shut through the pain and accidentally sinks down the wall till he’s almost crouched. Two strong arms immediately scoop him up, Michael on his knees before the Brit.

“What’s happening?” Michael asks hurriedly. His hands feel across Gavin’s body as if looking for injuries. “Are you hurt? Have you been shot or something?”

“N-No…” Gavin whines. He shakes his head but his brain rattles around inside his skull. “Drink…” He mumbles, “Hours… forty… fluid…”

“Gavin you’re not making any sense.” Michael presses worriedly. The concern in his voice should terrify Gavin. Michael’s never scared. He’s incredibly calm at times that even Geoff’s freaking out on the side lines. Walks in, blows shit up, and leaves. For his age Michael is a rock and Gavin would trust him with his life. He does daily.

If Michael is scared than Gavin should be too.

“Please..” Gavin begs.

Before Michael can answer Gavin goes limp in his grasp, sliding down the wall. He manages to catch his head before it hits the ground, releasing it softly onto the hardwood floor. 

Gavin passing out, unfortunately, isn’t rare. Gavin’s the workaholic of the group. He often forces himself in more directions than he go, takes no breaks till his body has enough and cuts off his work flow right there and there. It’s then up to one of crew to carry Gavin back to bed. 

But Michael’s sure something is different this time. Something wrong. Something bad.

Gavin starts convulsing where he lays on the ground and for all Gavin puts himself through he’s never done that before. He twitches at first but before Michael can properly react his whole body is moving.

It terrifies Michael who scuttles backwards with a yell. A yell much louder than Gavin’s before him.

“HELP!” He screams with all of his might. “HELP!” He continues screaming til his voice is hoarse, till he’s sure he’s woken up half of the entire apartment building.

The first one out of bed is Jack. The self-proclaimed mother of the group almost has a sixth sense for these sorts of emergencies. Behind him Geoff appears, Jeremy pushing into the last gap.

Michael’s started crying, tears streaming down his face as he tries to stop Gavin moving but he can’t. He looks up desperately for someone to help him.

“Ryan!” Jack calls behind him. “Call Caleb. Now!”

“What’s going on?” A disgruntled Ryan responds.

“Gavin’s dying…” Jeremy whispers audibly in terror. It was a comment only meant for himself but Ryan suddenly yells.

“WHAT?”

“He’s not dying!” Jack promises though no one’s sure if he’s promising himself or the others anymore.

“Jack help!” Michael cries out. He hasn’t got a clue what to do here.

“Just call Caleb, Ryan!" 

Jeremy’s starting to edge backwards, unsure of himself. He clutches on the side of Jack’s shirt like a small child who’s accidentally walked on his parents arguing in the middle of the night. Jack starts forward towards Michael, Jeremy’s hand dropping back down to his side and he stares helplessly in front of him. Ray places both hands on Jeremy’s shoulders and ushers the wide eyed man back into the bedroom. 

“What’s happening?” Jack tries to ask gently, crouching down next to Gavin’s fitting body. His tone is soft but he needs answers quickly if they’re to help their boyfriend. 

“I don’t know.” Michael sobs. Geoff crouches down behind the Jersey lad and grasps his shoulders protectively. “I came up from the weaponry and I was about to go to bed… and… and...” He takes a deep breath, “And Gavin was just standing there. He looked like death… said something about drink? And I think forty hours?” 

He stares down at the man on the ground who Jack was attempting to restrain. No one really knew how to help him in that moment.

“And then this started.”

Jack nods, taking Gavin’s pulse. It was weak and fading.

“We’ll help him Michael. Like every time before.” He promises and Geoff agrees quietly behind them. “Caleb, you better get here fast…”

Michael repeats Gavin’s last words to Caleb when he arrives. By which point Gavin has at least stopped convulsing and is now lying still on the large bed that the crew all share together. Caleb quickly comes to the conclusion that Gavin’s clearly severely dehydrated. 

Gavin fades in an out of consciousness for the rest of the night. He wakes once to vomit which no one was expecting. He starts to choke and the group is suddenly thrown into overdrive to clear the hacker’s airways. No one wants to admit that Gavin’s almost died too many times to count tonight.

“When do you think his last drink was?” Ryan asks tentatively.

“About two days ago.” Caleb answers.

“And how long do people typically survive without water?”

“Three. Maybe four at a push.”

Michael barely breathes. He refuses to leave Gavin’s side through the entire ordeal. He won’t even look away as Caleb sticks needles into Gavin’s skinny frame; some so long they looked like they’d pierce all the way through him.

 

* * *

  

When Gavin wakes he finds himself in his bed, his head light and his whole body in pain. Despite just waking up he’s exhausted. He blinks open his eyes, blearily letting the light seep into his pupils and he groans as his head sparks new pain.

Rain taps against the glass as Gavin’s senses return. Finally, the muggy atmosphere can begin to deteriorate, the scorching weather dampened by the drops that splash down. It’s not all Gavin can hear though. There’s a strange sound he notices coming from all around him and Gavin has to glance around to check that he was indeed in his own bed. He was. As he comes to completely he realises the origins of the noises. 

He’s surrounded by machines with pads hooked up to his chest and needles embedded in his veins.

“You’re a god damn fucking idiot.” Michael mutters and suddenly Gavin realises he’s not alone. At least the voice’s tone isn’t as angry as the words.

“What happened?” Gavin asks quietly.

“You passed out.”

“I guessed.”

“Because you de-hydrated yourself to the point of having a seizure.” Michael accused and Gavin’s face flushed. At least now he knew why he was so sore. “You scared the shit out me, boi.”

“I’m sorry…” Gavin says earnestly. He traces a tube attached to his wrist and discovers that it ends at a bag of saline, undoubtedly there to hydrate him quickly. All of this equipment could only mean that Caleb had been called in.

Gavin very rarely saw Caleb when he was the patient, often because Gavin only allowed a doctor to be called in if he actually had no say over the matter. And for that to happen he had to be unconscious. 

“Say hi to Caleb for me?” Gavin tries to joke but Michael bats him around the head gently. “Sorry…”

“You scared the shit out of me, Gavin… all of us.”

“I’m sorry.” He repeats.

“Do you even remember what happened to you last night?”

“A little.”

“You could have fucking died, Gavin!” Michael almost yells. But Gavin visibly flinches and he instantly feels bad for making Gavin so nervous when he’d already been through so much the past couple of days. “You don’t know how many times we almost had to let you go last night…” He whispers now, his voice a fraction of what it was a moment ago.

“I’m sorry.” Gavin says for the third time. Instead of a reply he’s hit with silence. Suddenly Michael’s lips coming crashing down on top of his own dry, chapped ones. He kisses the Brit hard and fast, as if doing so any slower would make the man slip out of his grasp.

“Never scare me like that again.” Michael tells him and Gavin nods fervently. “Promise me.”

“I promise, Michael.” Gavin whispers as Michael’s forehead presses into his own.

A thought flashes through Gavin’s brain and though he doesn’t want to bring up work it still niggles at his brain.

“But Michael,” Gavin starts as Michael settles down to rest his head on Gavin’s chest. He’s careful not to move any of the wiring attached.

“Hmmm.”

“What about that programme I was running…?” He asks carefully.

“We’ve given it to the B-Team.” Michael declares, “Let one of them spend days pouring over it. We’re not letting you get your hands back on that file.” 

“But…”

“No buts.”

Gavin sighs softly, running his fingers through the mop of Michael’s curly hair.

“Are the others okay?” Gavin asks.

“Do you ever give a shit about yourself instead of everyone else?” Michael jokes.

“Yes.” He protests. 

“When?” 

“Erm…”

“Exactly!” Michael cuts Gavin off before he can say anything. He sits up a little. “But for real, they’re fine. Jeremy’s a little shook up but Jack’s taking good care of him. Geoff wanted to be the first in to lecture you but I figured you wouldn’t be up for that just yet.” 

“You lectured me, Micoo.” Gavin points out. 

“Lovingly though.” 

“Everything I do is with love and if I have to kick your ass with love for scaring the shit out of me and almost dying then so be it.”

Gavin giggles. 

“You think dying’s funny do ya?” Michael asks, getting slightly riled up. Gavin giggles some more. It was so easy to get the lad ready for a fight. “I’ll leave you fitting on the floor next time.” He decides with a huff. 

Gavin knows he’s joking. He knows that he means the world to Michael and he smiles up at the lad with soft features and look in his eyes that Gavin will always recognise as home.

“I love you, Micoo.” Gavin declares with a gentle grin.

“Yeah, you piece of shit. I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well, hopefully I'm back for longer this time. Out of the remaining crew left who do you guys want to look after Gavin next? We've got:
> 
> Ray  
> Jeremy  
> Jack
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this! Any comment, kudos or bookmark quite literally makes my heart happy! I lost my creeper-gavin-fic account on Tumblr! So if you have any requests I'll you shall have to ask me on here!


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